


the break up party

by blazeofglory



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Artist Merlin, Break Up, Established Relationship, M/M, lawyer Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Didn’t expect you and me to go quite so badly. I didn’t expect you to be such a twat about breaking up, either.”</p><p>Merlin doesn’t know if Arthur winces at that or if his face goes stony and emotionless, because he refuses to look up. It doesn’t even matter; Merlin knows his words sting. He’d said them for that very reason, and yet, he still feels guilty.</p><p>“We were together a long time,” Arthur responds after a long, pregnant pause, voice firm and unaffected-- which is what confirms that he is hurt. That was the whole point, but Merlin’s heart aches knowing it’s true anyway. “I just think we should go out with a bang.”</p><p>(Or: the one where Merlin and Arthur decide that the best way to tell their friends that they're breaking up is to throw a party.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the break up party

**Author's Note:**

> So, despite what the summary says, the fic ends just before all their friends (i.e. Morgana, Gwen, Lancelot, etc.) show up. I might write a follow-up of the actual event, but no promises. 
> 
> Also, sorry that the only Merthur I write is break-up fics.

This is a bad idea. It is practically the _epitome_ of a bad idea. Their relationship is toxic and uneven, and it has been from the very bitter beginning. Wanting to go out on a not-quite-so-bitter end is a nice thought, it really is, but it is still a _very bad idea_. Does Arthur seriously think they can make it through the entire night without fighting? He doesn’t think they’ll argue over something stupid in front of all their friends and embarrass themselves?

Apparently not.

“Honestly, this isn’t going to end well,” Merlin says for the thousandth time. He looks up from the cake he’s frosting (fluffy yellow with rich chocolate icing, Arthur’s favorite), and levels a glare at his boyfriend-- _ex-_ boyfriend. Arthur just rolls his eyes, only looking up from the salad he’s putting together for a second, which just pisses Merlin off further. They’ll be screaming at each other in seconds, he just knows it, and their friends aren’t even here yet.

“It’ll be fine, Merlin,” Arthur says with a put upon sigh. “You always expect the worse.”

“Not always,” Merlin protests stubbornly, looking away now too. The cake won’t frost itself. He wants to say more, but no, he shouldn’t, he doesn’t actually _want_ to fight. But Arthur _is_ being an arse, and they’ve already broken up, what harm is there in speaking his mind now? It’s not like he has to worry about Arthur leaving. “Didn’t expect you and me to go quite so badly. I didn’t expect you to be such a twat about breaking up, either.”

Merlin doesn’t know if Arthur winces at that or if his face goes stony and emotionless, because he refuses to look up. It doesn’t even matter; Merlin knows his words sting. He’d said them for that very reason, and yet, he still feels guilty.

“We were together a long time,” Arthur responds after a long, pregnant pause, voice firm and unaffected-- which is what confirms that he is hurt. That was the whole point, but Merlin’s heart aches knowing it’s true anyway. “I just think we should go out with a bang."

 _We deserve that much, don’t you think?_ is implied, and they both know it. Arthur clearly thinks the answer is yes. Three years. Three years that went by too fast. They fought constantly: bickering every morning, arguments every date, and rows every holiday. Merlin doesn’t think a single day went by in the past three years that they weren’t at each others’ throats for at least half an hour. And that’s probably an understatement.

Half an hour a day for three years. God, even that is too much. It was-- well, it was a good thing they were ending this now. Morgana and Gwen had been whispering words of marriage for months now, and Merlin’s own mother had taken the less subtle route over Christmas and asked them why they hadn’t tied the knot yet.

They’d talked about it, of course they had. Merlin’s hand slips, getting icing on the counter, as he recalls the night they’d stayed up for hours and hours, hands clasped on the bed between them, talking about getting married. He had smiled his bright, big smile, hopelessly optimistic, and admitted that he’d dreamt about marrying Arthur for _years_. Since high school, really; probably around the time Merlin realized he was gay. God, he had pined for so long before Arthur gave him the time of day… Anyways. They talked about it. Arthur had smiled back and kissed him, and said he wanted this more than anything else in the world.

The next morning, they had a fight over something stupid-- a stain on a coat, or was it dirty dishes? They both got irrationally angry, as they are wont to do, and Arthur had said the words that brought everything they had crumbling down.

_“Is this what it would be like? Being married to you?”_

And they broke up.

It’s been two weeks now, and Merlin is okay, really, he’s totally fine. The icing on the cake is a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care. The kitchen is silent, and he doesn’t know what to say, so he just says the first thing that comes to mind. “I can’t believe it’s come to this, honestly.”

They’d been so _in love_. Fighting constantly, yes, but they always made up before they went to bed. They held each other tight and kissed softly, and the words “I love you” were never far from their lips. They’d been happy-- at least, in the beginning. Perhaps those three words hadn’t been said quite as often in the last few months.

Merlin would really rather just move on and try to forget so he could carry on with his life, rather than throw this stupid party. It’s going to go so poorly.

“I thought we were the exception,” Arthur whispers, sounding closer than he was a moment before. Merlin turns to meet his eyes, but can only hold them for a moment before he has to look away. Arthur’s lack of faith in the concept of true love was the whole reason they had taken so long to get together. Uther’s indiscretions had spoiled the idea for him, which only got worse as the years went on and his father never once mentioned his long-dead mother. Merlin knew that Arthur had resigned himself to being alone forever; to only needing himself. Arthur had been alright like that; content.

When they were 18 and drunk, and Arthur had been in the middle of telling some truly stupid story about fencing with Lancelot, Merlin had just blurted out-- “I’m so bloody in love with you.”

They didn’t speak for a few days, but Arthur showed up at Merlin’s dorm before long, DVDs and popcorn in hand, and they both pretended that nothing had happened. Merlin had been disappointed, of course, but mostly just relieved that Arthur still wanted to be his friend. Did a relationship even matter when they still had each other? Arthur was his best friend, his whole _world_ ; that was enough.

When they were 20, they spent Valentine’s together. The day started with a _Star Wars_ marathon and ended in bed. Together. Naked and completely sober.

They landed in bed a few more times after that, though not very often. Merlin tried dating, but no one was _right_. So, instead, he followed Arthur’s lead and focused on his work-- by the time he turned 22, his flat was completely full of paintings. And then, long after Merlin had given up any semblance of hope that Arthur could ever really want him, Arthur asked him out on a date.

Now, they’re 25. Arthur will be 26 in a few weeks. It’s hard to believe it’s over.

God, Merlin wants to cry. All those years ago, he should have been content with just staying friends. If nothing else had happened between them, they would still be happy. He would rather to have never loved at all, than to have loved and be losing it now. He glances at the clock, and everyone should start arriving at any second. Not a single one of their friends know that they’ve broken up, and they are _not_ going to be pleased. Morgana may actually stab someone-- probably Arthur. That thought isn’t comforting at all, though perhaps it should be. Merlin can not bring himself to hate Arthur like he knows he probably should.

“Maybe someone else can be the exception with you,” Merlin responds finally, and it took him much too long to say anything, so now it’s awkward again. “Is all the food ready? It’s seven.”

Arthur nods, jaw tight. “Yeah. We’ll give the news after dinner.”

After dinner, it will be official. Merlin nods too, then leaves Arthur alone in the kitchen, taking a seat on the sofa. They’d picked this couch out together, what seemed like a million years ago. Merlin would get to keep it, they had decided. Merlin was getting everything: the apartment, all the furniture, every little thing that they had bought together… His chest feels tight and he wants to cry, and he wants to beg Arthur to stay. Maybe if they try a little harder, act a little nicer, compromise more…

There’s a knock on the door, so Merlin rises to answer it.


End file.
